Sunday, July 22, 2012

It's difficult to
translate it into English, because our culture doesn't have an equivalent. It
means slave or bondservant, but those words still don't really capture the
idea. You see, the doulos chose their way of life. First century Greeks valued
their freedom as much as twenty-first century Americans, and yet they still had
this word because there were people who wanted to give their lives in service
to another. The doulos was a servant who liked their master enough to choose a
life in their service.

The word
"slave" has a pretty heavy negative connotation thanks to the horrors
of the Atlantic slave trade, but in the first century culture, it did not mean
you were dehumanized. It was still a human position, just one of humility and
servitude.

The word
"bondservant" just sounds archaic, but the "bond" part has
some credit to it. The root word of doulos is the word meaning "bond"
or "fasten," frequently with chains in the biblical contexts. I like
the term "bondservant," but it doesn't carry the severity, the umph,
in English.

Doulos is a
permanent, willing humility to a designated other.

I first learned the
word when I was a young and naieve eighteen year old putting together a paper
for Senior Bible class. I was fascinated by the concept that James the Apostle,
the brother of Christ, chose this title, doulos of Christ, to start his canonical
letter. I decided I wanted to be a doulos of Christ too. I thought it'd make a
pretty cool tattoo.

But I waited almost
six years before actually committing ink to my skin.

A lot has happened
in those six years.

A lot.

I just want to
highlight a few things here, though. First of all, I want to explain why I
chose to tattoo my body. In high school it was a cool thing to talk about
doing, but I had the sense enough to think through the implications and
potential complications for putting this mark on my body considering the life
goals I had. I want to be a teacher at the same school I graduated from, and I
know that some of the parents who send their kids there believe that tattooing
yourself is a horrendous sin - based on their literal interpretation of
Leviticus 19:28. Funny story, Leviticus 19:28 follows Leviticus 19:27. The same
people who condemn me for having a tattoo wouldn't bat an eye at a male
colleague who shaves. Those two verses are telling us something about the
character of God when they're read in context. They are not a list of proof
texts to pick and choose from according to our misconceptions of what God wants
us to look like which are erroneously rooted in 1950s suburban white American
culture.

The key text I had
to deal with was not Leviticus 19:28, but 1 Corinthians 8 - meat sacrificed to
idols. Paul told the believers that they had freedom in Christ, but they needed
to be sensitive to their brothers and sisters who were not used to or yet comfortable
with this freedom. If that meant an immature Christian told a mature Christian
he or she was eating meat sacrificed to idols, the mature Christian had a
responsibility to stop to keep the immature Christian from stumbling. So in my
case, I knew I had the freedom to get a tattoo, but I also knew that there were
immature parents in my teaching future who would not understand that freedom.
Did I have a responsibility to refrain from getting my tattoo just because it
would cause them to think I was a sinner?

I honestly had to
wrestle with that because I didn't want to be discredited as a follower of
Christ for getting a tattoo that labeled me as a follower of Christ… yeah, that
happened. It was a big dilemma for me, but I talked to one of my Bible
professors about it. He pointed out that Paul never encouraged Christians to
pause their freedoms to keep their brothers and sisters immature. My refraining
from this permanent and public declaration could be maintaining the immaturity
of my brothers and sisters who might condemn me.

So I was going to
get it. I wanted to have a permanent and public declaration that I was
willingly giving my life to Christ. I asked my friend Angela to go with me, and
she set up an appointment for me and asked if I had a picture of what I wanted.
I searched online and typed the letters with the Greek font in Word. I even
printed out the image I liked best in the appropriate size, but the night
before I got my tattoo I realized I didn't want to be branded with those
computer generated letters. I wanted a mark of ownership on my foot that
represented the personal, loving relationship I have with my master.

Have you ever seen
Toy Story? Andy has a personal, loving relationship with his toys, and he marks
his ownership of them by writing his name on their foot. I wanted this
particular name written on my foot. I didn't want a cattle brand; that's not
how Christ works. I spent about half an hour writing and rewriting the Greek
letters until I thought they looked perfect, and came up with the handwritten
version of the tattoo you can now see on my foot.

It will always be
there as a permanent and public declaration that I have an owner who loves me
enough to mark me with his ownership and to allow me to be called his own.

This is the longest
I've ever gone without communicating to our Command Base.

I was out in the field with some of my troops, but they were attacked and
overtaken by the Apathy. I thought I could withstand. I thought I needed to be
more concerned with Distraction, but it seems that I've been almost
incapacitated by Apathy. It's been dripping in my wake. I discovered my
quarters are covered with the fungus, and I've been breathing it in and out for
almost a month now. All of my previous work is tainted with the haziness of
unclear convictions.

I'm ashamed to say,
but I hardly noticed how much time had passed since I had last communicated. I
assessed my troops this morning and found that four of my brightest soldiers
are completely paralyzed by the disease. I know I cannot revive them without first
sterilizing the bacteria within myself. It's a painful decontamination process
as the layers of my skin have to be burned off, but I'm anxious to feel the
release of weight as the fungus is burned away along with the contaminated
skin.

With the Apathy
identified and addressed, communications with Command will resume their normal
pace, and perhaps even accelerate as I look for ways to cure and keep my
soldiers healthy. I can only perform the decontamination on myself, and I need
help from the higher authorities to find solutions that can save those under my
supervision. Apathy has been a nasty enemy, and I'm sure the battle is far from
over. However, I'm happy to have the current culprit identified so that I can
adapt my battle strategies accordingly.